


Innermost Thoughts

by Ruth809



Series: Close Your Eyes; Hold Your Hand [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post - A Game of Thrones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4808462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruth809/pseuds/Ruth809
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne, Jaime and Evelin each speak to Serena on their journeys and how they are managing to build a better future within the ruins of the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brienne

 

 

 

 

 

**Brienne**

 

I see you in the gardens, holding onto Lioness. You always carry that wooden sword, patrolling the palace grounds and in the gardens. That fierce determination to defend is in your eyes. You will keep oaths for defending the weak and innocent (mostly rabbits and does). Your loyalty will lie with them, for the ones you love.

            It’s quite hard to keep a tight rein around you. You have such a high energy, plenty of mischief and of course being so stubborn. I am reminded of my own youth, fighting the boys despite father’s disapproval. He finally grumbled as I would never relinquish fighting. I fought my way through people, through things no one should. I had to. I lost along the way, but I gained two of the most important people in my life thus far.

            When we said goodbye, your father and I never expected to see each other again. We were the bitterest of enemies, always fighting. But on the day we parted ways, I knew that I was leaving behind something more. Someone whom became more than a friend.

            I feel a jab on my arm. Lady Sansa has to remind me what we were discussing. She chuckles. “Just like her daughter. A day dreamer.”

            Before dinner, Evelin has to run a bath for you since you love to get your dress dirty, declaring that you are a sellsword. Like Bronn. He and your father find it cute at times.

            Until you have had a fair share of food and have gone outside pestering the Seasguard in joining their patrol, is when you finally tire yourself out. Jaime carries you to bed, eyes filled with a sweetness laced with sleep. A smile fills your lips as you yawn. Both me and Jaime know that you’ll steal his hand away once we are asleep.

            As you drift off, I give a kiss on your soft cheek. I can smell the clean scent, feel the softness of your hair. If I squint my eyes, I can still see the teeth marks on Jaime’s hand. I bit down on it just to prevent my screams as I gave birth. The pain was indescribable. My body burned and ached. He nearly passed out, but held firm in wanting to be near me, offering his hand. “Bite down hard or we’ll all lose our hearing.”

            You screamed into the world. Once I held you in my arms, you quickly calmed down. As I passed you down to Jaime’s arms, you instantly fell asleep. He will denies the fact that it would be the first time I saw his green eyes fill with tears. He also remembered of the losses, of the suffering, the sins, everything. His lips whispered of your name that meant tranquility. But the meaning also meant of peace. A new beginning for us all.

            A small smile lingers on your father’s lips, seeing you. He turns to me and whispers, “Come along, wench. It’s past our bedtime.” His hand cupping my back.


	2. Jaime

**Jaime**

 

            I look to the moonlight that hovers above the sea. I gaze at the gardens, shadows casting among the rose bushes, the weeping willow that are your favorite and all other plants that bring life. Such a strange word that is. Life. I have seen quite the opposite, as has your mother. Being here in Tarth has helped me regain that lost beauty of life. The opposite of death and destruction.

            She pulls me away towards the present as we get ready for bed. “Any thoughts just now?”

            Although I wish not to speak about it, she knows what my thoughts are. “Just stuff.” Not my best excuse.

            I close my eyes, my arm draped over Brienne’s stomach. So many times have I slept in this position. As if someone would snatch her way. As if I would lose her again. But no, I give myself the comfort that the treaty has been signed in where I was present. I felt her hand in mine as Lady Sansa demanded to the Dragon Queen of me not being harmed in anyway. If anyone dared cross the Queen of the North, that person would have to deal with her directly. She is a fearless young woman who has lost so much. Ayra—her sister—made the same plea. Even my brother (your uncle) quietly advised her not to execute me. The room quietly buzzed with opinions on what to do with me. _Let him live_ or _kill the kingslayer_.

            As the Dragon Queen read the terms, I interjected. “I don’t want Casterly Rock or any place.”

            “What is it that you want, Ser?” She asked. I turn to Brienne as her held her stomach. I must say that the blue dress brought out her best feature. Her eyes that became shiny. “I want my wife. And child.”

            “And what of the others?” Perhaps she really meant to be kind or to torture me of the past.

            “What’s done is done. All I have is now.” Hand in hand, your mother and I walked away from King’s Landing for the very last time. My heart swelled with joy as I arrived to the Sapphire Isles. I will admit that yes I nearly wept when Brienne gave birth (my gods she’s a screamer) and when I held you in my arms.

            In the middle of the night, I hear you enter the room, snatching the hand away. I allow this to happen, knowing that I would have to wake you up, seeing you sleep peacefully, knowing of the precious peace you have inherited.

            It is a morning ritual, giving a bump to your head in order to wake you. “Good morning, father.” You yawn as you clutch the hand. I automatically forgive you most of the time.

            “Good morning to you, my Lioness.” _Whatof the others?_ The question is repeated in my mind. _What’s done is done. All I have is now._ This is the answer repeated from within my heart.

            “Father are you alright? You look sad.” You are a sharp one, knowing of my sadness. Brienne arrives into the room, asking the same question. She knows why I am this way.

            I need not answer since the both of you wrap your arms around me. I will do my crying in bed.

            Evelin sees us hug and joins us. “Is everything okay?”

            “They already are.” I say.


	3. Evelin

 

 

            My first ritual each morning is sneaking to your room, watching you sleep with your father’s hand. I chuckle in how you love to sleep with it while he has to at times wake you up with his stump. My own father brushed my hair away to wake me up for a day of work. I find myself smiling at the memory. Before other memories take over, you race to my arms. “Good morning, Evelin!” You reply cheerfully.

            “And good morning to you, m’lady.” I consider you as a little sister, something I wish I had. I can’t complain of my childhood with me traveling all of Westros. I was rich in items, never without food or clothes. My education was of maps and book and tales of my father’s adventures with my mum.

            I should not even you, Serena. How can I? My childhood was destroyed on the day when King Joffrey demanded my ring. My father always said to never let my enemies see my fear or tears. I stood up to the king as I clutched my hand protectively.

            The events of the assult are still hazy for me. But I can clearly remember the blood gushing from father’s throat. The hands snatching me away, tossing me in front of Joffrey. The sneer in his face made for me to discover his involvement. “Now, _m’lady_. If you would like to keep living and not end up like your father, give me your ring.”

            “Wh—why? You have so many—” I felt one of the Kingsguard kicking my side. I tried not to scream. “No—” Another kick. “Ring is—”

            “Give me the ring!” Joffrey shrilled. I slowly slide the ring off and in the split second, I swallowed it. I had a tiny amount of delight seeing his face in shock.

            For two days I slept in the dank cellar with hardly any food or drink. I couldn’t sleep without remembering father coughing blood as he laid dying. My first visitor was Lord Tyrion, whom was visibly applauded by my condition. “Tell me everything. I have nothing better to do anyway.”

            My voice was hoarse with both the grief and the ring lodged inside my throat. He really believed in my story and how I would have never killed my father. I heard Lord Tyrion grumble something. “Should have been Joffrey instead of your poor father.”

             Soon after I received a visit from The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. The feared Kingslayer. Ser Jaime Lannister. His white cloak whirled around him as he gazed at me with pity and something else. Guilt for being associated to Joffrey and defending the Iron Throne. He wanted to confirm my story as his brother told him.

            A heavy cloak was tossed over me as I felt a kick, urging me to get up. “Follow me and do not make a sound.” I knew it was Ser Jaime helping me escape.

            He gave me instructions on staying inside the small crate inside a cart. Once I arrived to the ship, I would be headed to the Free Cities. He shoved me a velvet pouch that bulged with coins as I am guided towards the crate. “You’ll need these in order to survive. Bronn will see to it that you get to the ship.” Bronn gave me a friendly nod. I gave a solemn one in return. “Think of all of this as compensation of your unnecessary ordeal. I was caught in some trouble of my own. I wanted to give up, but someone told me these words: ‘Live, fight and take revenge.’ You have to do the same thing.”

            I cried unashamed, letting Ser Jaime see my tears and the fear I felt. When he was about to walk away, I held his gold hand. “Thank you, Ser Jaime. For my life.”

            He smiled kindly. “Goodbye, Evelin. Quickly, get inside.”

            I am brought back by your chattering as you and walk through the gardens. “I never let anyone come to my hiding spot. Don’t tell anyone, okay Evelin?” We walk under the weeping willow, tucking myself under the branches. You whisper secrets and adventures to me. You ask me to whisper a secret. I try to think of one. You suddenly frown as you notice the tears falling from my eyes. “Why are you crying, Evelin?”

            “These are happy tears, Serena. It’s not a secret on how happy I am to being here with all of you.” I lean again the truck as you tuck yourself on my lap. Your head resting comfortably on my chest.

            There is no longer envy. But of joy.


End file.
